My Doll
by PepperScripts
Summary: "Even now and then my curiosity betrays me, but my will to sustain life has always won." Carlisle Cullen- from his past, as the beginnings of his first years as a fledgling, to the current present time. Warning: Total AU!/Sexual Content B/C.


A/N: I'm sorry for everyone who's studied British history because I've totally screwed up the times. This was meant to follow the Great Plague of London which happened to be in 1665 but after reading the twilight wiki which claims that Carlisle was actually changed in 1663, I've gone ahead and twisted the timeline a bit. Anyways, I probably went and screwed up some more facts but hey, it's my imagination. So if Carlisle wanted crack, I'll give him crack! I think that was totally out of context but who the fk cares?

Anyways, just pre-warning, I'm not a good writer. And this story is just going way over the top of what an inexperienced writer should write. But I do love pushing myself. And it would be awesome if you guys give me some pointers. If you notice that my style is a bit stiff, somewhat stern and unrelaxed- well that's my inexperience right there in sociology. So be kind, but also be a critic because I would love to know your opinion. Thank you :D

Chapter One: The Year of Our Lord, 1663.

The mangled, rotting corpses that lay on the village floors secreted a pungent odor of burnt flesh and a perspiring disease that refused to stay buried. Even the sturdy light of the full moon could not pierce the wallowing, dark clouds that hovered over the desecrated area. Pelham, the village was once called, had suffered at the hands of the bubonic plague that was once again spanning across the face of Europe. Hints of charred skin marred with large, bloodied warts held the evidence of the virulent Black Death. This seven-day disease had overthrown the entire village within a month of its first fallen victim.

Soon after the disastrous news had reached the wiser ears of the Bishop of Salisbury, he, in turn to stop the spread of the harmful ailment from reaching his own Holy city, had given warning to the survivors of Pelham to evacuate the borough within three days- which, soon after, he would send his own envoy to burn it down in hopes of taking the pestilence to its grave.

Consequently, Pelham did not take this standing down. They formed a resistance against the Bishop's power and refused to surrender without a fight. The Bishop was not pleased and claimed that Pelham had renounced their God and resorted to devilry. Having his citizens' approval, he imposed the extermination of Pelham for the greater good.

Arming themselves with worn leather and whatever blades they could find, the townspeople stood face to face against the most vicious horde of filthy killers in the attaché. Swords and axes clashed in a battle that lasted for ten days and ten nights, ending shortly with the last murder of Pastor Michael Fredrick Cullen, leader of the resistance.

The town, of course, went up in blazes and the envoy, before long, left the scene without a trace.

Shortly after their vanishing, two horses suddenly appeared through the heavy fog, slowly marching into the burnt village from the direction of a hidden bridge connecting the town to its water source.

The horse-masters were covered from head to toe with long, black hooded capes that sheltered their faces from the poisonous fumes. Drabbed as dark and as black as the night, they strolled unhurriedly with their faces scanning the ruins, searching for something. Specters would've believed them to be the reapers themselves, come to collect the hefty number of lingering souls that surrounded the massacre. However, the fates that night stood nowhere near the path of those unfortunates, but to something much greater- a prospect that refused to be left behind.

Xxxxxx

In my early years, a wise man once told me that we are the saddest creatures on earth because we know that death_ was inevitable_. Where everything we had built ourselves up too, everything we had accomplished up to that point would result in nothing. People did not speak anymore on the subject than necessary. I imagine we all would overlook what makes us sad, upset, and maybe even a bit lonely sometimes. I suppose that's why I spend more of my time not looking forward, but rather looking back. To when the grass appeared a bit greener to my eyes and the waters of Averill made me grin with fascination as it passed through my fingers. Then and there, I would've admitted to having my own peace… and would've allowed myself to die…with no regret. But I know better now.

"Pl-please…" I groaned out, knowing there was no one out there to hear my calls. Gripping the bloodied wound at my chest, I prayed to God, to Jesus, to anyone up there who could answer my pleas, "H-help me." Tears leaked through the corners of my eyes and I trembled, a sense of fear and revulsion plunging me further into the coming abyss. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live.

I want to live.

A crack resonated from my left, signaling that there were still feet among this part of the dead Earth. Assuming that it was another one of the Bishop's bloodthirsty mongrels, I stayed silent as best as I could, though with every crack of foot on dried leaves that reached mine ear, my heartbeat rose thunderously in time to its motion. Immediately, as if it already discerned my specific location, the footsteps came closer and closer in my direction. Out of fervent anxiety, I feigned death and hoped that my captors would believe my gag and leave me to myself, while at the same time hoping that they'd put an end to my despair.

_Crack. Stomp. Crack. _

Having no knowledge of whether they were a foot away or an inch away, I stayed frozen, as rigid as wood. I dared not breathe, and consequently, after holding my breath for an insurmountable amount of time, the need for air was imperative. The incessant burning of my lungs tore through my will and I lightly inhaled. Surprisingly, the smoky odor of cremated flesh had all but vanished, and in its place, a spicy, almost tantalizing fragrance sweetly comforted my drowned senses- a mixture of black carnet and rosewater.

"Is he dead?" A voice spoke not far away from where I lie.

"No, he is not." I felt my heart shudder as another voice fluttered near my ear. It was a she, and her dulcet song had bidden me to recall the legends that the Castilian merchants brought so often to Averill's shores, a myth of Dark Angels with sweet and sensual voices that lured ships to wreckage and men to their deaths.

"You are alive, aren't you?" She pettily emphasized the word "alive" as she laid her weight onto me. The burning that had been out of focus for the last few moments had come rushing back as she settled onto my chest. I groaned out, my eyes jumping open to gaze at my torturer,

"Get off me!" I cried, not strong enough to toss her off by myself.

She was but a wee child, though the most beautiful I had ever seen, with finely woven brown locks and a mouth as red as rose, and skin as white as marble. However, those things stood insignificant to what I noticed next. Her irises were burning an extremely volatile bright red. She smirked at me with her devilish grin and upon seeing the slightly lengthened fangs, I knew what she was. My eyes widened and I gasped out disgustedly, "Vampire!"

"What has antagonized you so to bequest me such a face of anger, Hunter? You know not what I come for." She smirked, her eyes alight with amusement.

Lividly, I responded, "The reality to my dismay stands before me, creature. Taking possession of an innocent's life and disposing her soul to the deepest depths of hell is the utmost evil of sins. Have you no feeling? No guilt?"

She did not answer and looked on with childish innocence, "Your words tire you, Carlisle. Should you not save them to pray to your God? Such a fine one to devote faith too- see how he ravages your people with the pestilence and leaves you to die _alone_."

"I'll kill you, beast! I promise!"

She chuckled at this, "Thou shall not kill, _remember_? Remember?"

"Go to hell." I stared with fixed hatred.

Clicking her tongue in disappointment, she dictated "You are in no position for such impudence.", as she lent more weight onto my battered body. I screamed in response to the throbbing pain that erupted from my stomach. "I do not recall you being such a brutish child, Carlisle. Where, exactly, have your manners gone too?" With a mocking frown, she lifted her weight off me.

"Were they ripped away from you by that beast you call Father." She lifted a hand to trace my chin, in which I quickly reacted by flinching away.

"Don't touch me!"

Her playfulness dissipated and a frown tugged at the corner of her frozen expression, "So you truly have become him; another barbarian…who takes what is not his to take." There was a slight sad undertone to her words, like she could actually address such emotions other than evil. But, I knew it was just the trickery of the devil inside her and my will stood against it, "How dare you? My father…" I breathed in lightly, having to struggle for air now, "was a man of justice and virtue, and you are nothing but the devil's lowly servant…An indecency brought down to earth by means of evil and wickedness. You have no right to speak his name with your filthy tongue… much less accuse him of pilfering."

Her cool fingers stroked lightly against my cheek and- Lord, forgive me- I savored the touch of it against my burnt skin.

"I do refuse to acknowledge you, creature. If you should kill me than do it now." I scoffed.

"So you speak with such courage, my beautiful prey. Yet your eyes tell me different."

It was unavoidable to not stare into hers as she watched my own. Her crimson orbs were bright, and a mix of sordid reds and peaches swerved together. I could not contemplate any further emotions, any misbegotten thoughts as I usually did when fathers asked me to interrogate suspects accused of the devilry.

"Such beautiful colors..." She dragged her fingers around my eye, encasing it as if she would want to pluck it out of its hole and take it for herself.

"Lovely boy…" She crooned, "I can't bear to give you up." Silence emanated from her as she began stroking my torso.

"I can feel it, you know. Your death is not far away now."

"Which makes me wonder why you haven't killed me yet, Vampire?"

There was a slight pause before she responded, "I have a proposition."

I stayed silent.

"If you renounce your God, your ways, your beliefs… then I will entrust upon you the gift of life." She softly dragged her nails across my neck, smiling down at me, "Of immortality. You will never die, never grow old, and will never be succumbed by such ailments ever again."

"And my price would be to give up my soul to the evil that stemmed you? To enslave myself to the dirty blood that flows through your own veins? You. Are. Mad." I spitefully growled, carving my nails into her calves. Blood erupted from the small crescent punctures but she did not faze, only gazing at me with the same tireless sorrow.

"Why do you not commend me of such an offer? I am to let you live and continue to prosper- is that such devilry? Am I meant to be wholly evil in your eyes Carlisle?"

"Your tricks…will not work." I panted, the deadly clouds once again hovered over me and any last attempts of pushing them to the back of my mind were futile.

"Tell me, dear warrior, is it truly the devil that you so fear…or the fear of the unknown which pulls at your conscience?"

"I…" I began, my empty mind blurrily looping around the question.

"Answer me, my love." She stroked along my cheek, to the edges of my jaw, and finally twisted her fingers into my hair. I softly sighed at the touch of her coldness, "I cannot."

She gave me a small smile, undaunted by my hesitance to answer, "I have known you ever since you were a child, have followed you and protected you through your battles. But now it is my turn. It's my chance to have you with me forever." She lovingly stroked my face, while I waited, not even able to comprehend her words.

"If the first, then I shall leave you here with your peace, if the second, then…" She trailed off.

I waited for her voice to continue, but when it didn't, I shortly questioned, "To what would you have of me if I granted such an answer?", wanting her sweet music to follow me in sleep.

"Then…I shall follow where my desires take me, and take you into my abyss as well."

I could not hear myself think. Thinking was for the living now, and though I would wash my hands of this world completely, the wild drunkenness of my thoughts repeated the opposite, "I…want to live."

And then there was darkness.

Xxxxx

A/N: Horrible? I thought so too, meself. :0 I'll probably go onto re-editing this for another three days, but I decided to post what I have. I am horrible, ain't I? :P


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